


Fjord T'ouff and the Goblet of Fire

by RobinLorin



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Character Death, Gen, Snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-07-17 07:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16091084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinLorin/pseuds/RobinLorin
Summary: Headmaster Vandrin stood up from the staff table and moved to the podium. There was no need for him to call for quiet; the entire hall was staring at him.





	1. Chapter 1

“Here,” said Fjord roughly. “Take it.” He thrust the sack of gold at Gustav, who recoiled as if it was poisoned. 

“No,” Gustav said. “I couldn’t… you take it, you’ve earned it…” He raised his hand, as if to pat Fjord’s comfortingly, but his hand faltered and a strange look crossed his face, as if he had suddenly remembered his loss all over again. He shook his head. “I, ah… no, please keep it.” 

Fjord turned to Mrs. Lavorre. “You take it,” he said desperately. 

Mrs. Lavorre shook her head. “It’s yours, Fjord.” 

“She doesn’t need it,” said Jester, matter-of-fact as always. “You should keep it, Fjord.” 

“I don’t want it,” Fjord said through gritted teeth. His jaw was so tight he could feel the nubs of his tusks pushing into his upper jaw. “I want…” 

He wanted Mollymauk back. 

“I know,” said Mrs. Lavorre sadly. She held a glass vial out to him. “Here. It is a Dreamless Sleeping Draught.” 

Fjord swiped at his eyes and took the potion. As he gulped it down, he felt Jester settle on the edge of his bed. She took the potion from him as set it on his bedside table, then took his hand. 

“Fjord,” she said in a small voice, “I’m very sad that Molly is gone but I’m very, very glad that you came back.” 

“We all are,” said Mrs. Lavorre. She embraced him gently. Fjord wrapped his arms around her and, for the first time in his waking memory, felt the touch of a mother. He screwed up his eyes, and as he tried not to cry he gave in with relief to the pull of a dark, dreamless sleep.  

* * *

The End of Year feast was the most solemn Fjord had ever seen. The Great Hall was hung with black crepe, despite Ferior winning the house cup that year. When Fjord entered the hall, faces swung around to look around at him. He ignored the whispers and found a spot at the Proitt house table. Fjord glanced around the hall. He saw Beau at the Ferior table, looking wan and miserable. Fjord could see that she had been crying. Caleb sat next to her stonefaced. Neither had touched their food.

Somewhere in the crowd, Fjord heard Nott hiss at someone, “Keep staring and I’ll hex you!” 

Headmaster Vandrin stood up from the staff table and moved to the podium. There was no need for him to call for quiet; the entire hall was staring at him. 

“We have come to the end of another year,” said Vandrin. His voice was rough and deliberate, as always. Fjord felt a sudden rush of gratitude to Vandrin for remaining at Hogwarts through the Feast, despite what he had said about finding Ikathon. “As always, we have been tested by myriad forces, some of them manufactured by professors and some beyond our control. As a student body, we have shared in successes and failures. We have all shared in a great loss.” 

The hall was deathly quiet. Fjord stared at his plate. 

“Mollymauk Tealeaf was a beloved member of our community. That he was taken from us so early is a tragedy. In the coming months, many of you will continue to process how he was taken from us. And in the coming months you will be given convenient lies that you will like much more than the truth. I will tell you now, here, that the death of Mollymeak Tealeaf was not a mistake.” 

Fjord raised his head and stared at Vandrin. 

Vandrin continued calmly. “Mollymauk was killed ritualistically, deliberately, when he attempted to prevent a great evil. He sacrificed himself in the hope of a greater good that can still overpower a great coming evil. Mollymauk Tealeaf was killed by Lord Ikathon.” 

Whispers spread through the Great Hall, heads turning to look at Fjord. He kept his eyes fixed on Vandrin. Jester squeezed his hand under the table. 

“I tell you this to forewarn you,” said Vandrin. He looked around the Great Hall, his piercing stare sweeping through the crowd. “You may be students, but all of you will be affected by Ikathon’s return. We must remain vigilant against evil, especially the mundane evil that disguises itself as well-meaning platitudes and palatable excuses. We must honor the memory of Mollymauk Tealeaf, a student who gave his life for what is good and right.” 

Vandrin raised his goblet. He seemed to be looking right at Fjord. He intoned, “To Mollymauk Tealeaf.” 

Across the Great Hall, students raised their goblets; a sea of purple, gold, crimson and blue all lifting their arms and toasting to a classmate now gone. Fjord raised his goblet. “To Mollymauk Tealeaf,” he said. 


	2. Chapter 2

Fjord stopped cold. There were huge skeletal horses pulling the carriages. They were two to a carriage, easily as big as something Pumat would ride. The snorted and stamped their feet. Fjord could see right through their rib cages. 

He took a step back. “What the hell?”

Beau knocked into him. “Huh, what?”

“Why’d they change how the carriages are pulled?” 

Beau looked between Fjord and the carriages. “I don’t get it.” 

Fjord turned to her. “The horses. They’re right there.” 

Beau frowned at him. “Are you okay?” Fjord thought he saw pity in her frown. He turned away. 

“Y...yeah,” he said. “Fine.” 

“Come on, you guys,” said Jester. “There’s only one carriage left.” 

Beau’s hands shot out and grabbed Fjord’s and Jester’s arms. “Isn’t that Crazy Caduceus?” she whispered. 

Jester peered at the carriage and scoffed. “Oh, Beau, that’s just Caduceus Clay!” 

“Yeah, I  _ know _ ,” said Beau. 

Fjord looked between them. “Who?”

Jester rolled her eyes. “He’s a fourth-year Rinehardt. He’s not  _ scary  _ or anything.” She marched up to the carriage and said brightly, “Hi!” 

The boy inside looked up. He was wearing overly large glasses that made him look owlish. Everything about him, in fact, was over-sized: his clothes slumped too large on his six-foot-plus frame, his ears protruded from the side of his head, and long, dyed hair hung down on either side of his face. 

“Oh, hi,” he said in a dreamy voice. “Jester Lavorre, right?” 

“Yup, that’s me!” Jester climbed up onto the carriage. “These are my friends, Beau and Fjord.” 

Fjord approached warily. “Uh, hi,” he said. This close, he could see that Caduceus was holding a magazine called The Graveside upside-down in front of his face, slightly lowered to watch Fjord and Beau climb aboard. 

“Hey,” said Beau, “Craz-- I mean, Caduceus, right?” She winced. 

Clay regarded Beau over his magazine. “People call me that,” he said amiably. “Crazy, or Cuckoo. People often distance themselves from what they don’t understand.” 

Beau sat down. One of the skeletal horses shook its nonexistent mane and began to trot; the carriage jolted into motion. Fjord tried not to watch the bones move. Trying to distract himself, he focused on Caduceus. “People don’t understand you?” 

The taller boy was watching him. “Don’t worry,” he said in his slow, dreamy voice. “I see them too. You’re perfectly sane.” 

“Thanks,” muttered Fjord. He was not at all reassured. 

**Author's Note:**

> sidestep any potential house debates by making up your own stupid house names


End file.
